


An Open Door

by OneofWebs



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Bottom Eskel (The Witcher), Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Breeding, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dom Lambert (The Witcher), Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Use, Enthusiastic Consent, Face Slapping, First Time Bottoming, Free Use, Kissing, M/M, Manhandling, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Pet Names, Pregnancy Kink, Riding, Safewords, Service Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Slapping, Spanking, Stripping, Switch Jaskier | Dandelion, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Lambert (The Witcher), Winter At Kaer Morhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28612797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs
Summary: Jaskier keeps a room to himself in one of the towers of Kaer Morhen where he lays out naked, waiting for when his Witchers are finished with their work to come and see to him. Anything goes, and the door is always unlocked.-Ch1: Jaskier/EskelCh2: Lambert/JaskierCh3: Geralt/Jaskier; implied Lambert/Eskel
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Lambert (The Witcher)/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 22
Kudos: 245





	1. Eskel

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I have the fic pre-tagged to include what's happening in the next 3 chapters, too :3c stay tuned
> 
> hope you enjoy! comments and kudos welcome

Jaskier was nestled up in the silken sheets. Sighing to himself, he shifted down and felt all that beautiful softness against his bare skin. He was entirely naked, all of his clothes neatly folded on the desk across the room. The bath water had gone cold by now, but oh, he’d spent _quite_ the time in there. Just the thought alone had him tingling with a new warmth. He pressed his knees together, rolling to his side and pressing his face into the pillows. The silk still smelled like Geralt, from the last time Jaskier had holed himself up in this room.

The door was always left unlocked, slightly ajar. It was how they all knew he was here. One of the old rooms in Kaer Morhen that no one used anymore. So, Jaskier used it. He used it to strip down naked and plant himself into soft, silken sheets, feel the warmth of the crackling fire not too far from the bed and just _wait_. He always did his best thinking like this, comfortable with the warmth and just wrapped up with himself. Even if outside the snow decided to fall or the wind picked up, Jaskier could think like this.

He could write new songs all in his head, great symphonies ran unfinished as he plucked out the words, chose the tune and the story, and strung it all together. When he was back with his lute, he could craft it all again from pure memory, but he had to know it first. He learned it here, in this bed, until he was given a _reason_ not to think. That’s what the room was for, after all. A blaring beacon to say he was looking for a reason not to think. Someone would take him up on the offer; it was always just a question of who and what would they do?

Jaskier could dream on that alone, even if no one ever came to keep him company. They had plenty of things to keep them busy, being Witchers and all. There were potions to brew and alcohol to drink and swords to clash. They had to keep their skills up; monsters didn’t rest, even if the number of Witchers dwindled. Every now and again, seeing that ajar window, though, Jaskier could steal their attention away. He _liked_ stealing their attention away. Made him feel wanted, needed. Like he was such an irresistible enjoyment that they couldn’t stay away for long. And once they came, they were there for _ages_.

Geralt had tied his hands to the headboard last time with such a soft, silken strip that Jaskier had reveled in it. It had felt so beautiful against his skin, and everything had only gotten better from there. Geralt hadn’t even taken off his clothes; he’d just settled himself between Jaskier’s spread open thighs. The way his gloves felt against Jaskier’s skin was such a contrast, had him gasping, and then Geralt had spent the next few _hours_ dragging him straight to the edge of orgasm with nothing but his mouth. He’d sucked Jaskier’s cock all the way in the back of his throat, and when that wasn’t enough, he flipped Jaskier on his stomach and spread his cheeks apart.

Jaskier let out a bit of a whimpering moan at the memory, shifting his knees together. His prick was already beginning to stir, and he was still entirely alone. He should have made it more obvious he was going to spend his day here. He didn’t want to spend it alone, even if he sometimes ran that risk.

It was such a small risk, and he shouldn’t have bothered with the worry. He only laid there a minute before he heard the door slip open. Just enough for someone to sneak through and then _close_ it. That sent a shiver straight up Jaskier’s spine; whoever had just come in, and of course, he made no bother to roll over and see who joined him, wanted to spend their time with him alone. He’d certainly had all three of them in bed with him at once, and he looked forward to it each time. But with just one, things were so intimate. Personalized, he might say.

Jaskier just hummed into the sheets and slid his own fingers down the length of his abdomen, resting right over the dip of his pelvis as he listened to the footsteps cross the room. Heavy boots, heavy step. Jaskier was beginning to learn them all just by sound, and he knew Eskel had joined him before Eskel even rounded the bed to come into view. Jaskier’s eyes were closed, but he smiled and spread out his free hand in the sheets, in the blank space beside him like an invitation that Eskel could join him.

“Break time?” Jaskier asked, his voice heavy.

“Something like that,” Eskel responded. He took Jaskier’s invitation by just sitting on the side of the bed. He wrapped their fingers together and listened to the soothing way Jaskier breathed.

“Get undressed, big guy.” Jaskier shifted closer, then, having pulled himself out of Eskel’s meager hold. He slid up to drape himself over Eskel’s shoulders, pressed against his back, and rubbed down his chest, through the fabric of his shirt. He hadn’t bothered to even remove the armor. “Unless,” Jaskier continued, “you need help with that.”

Eskel shifted and didn’t respond, instead just let Jaskier do what he pleased for a moment. Jaskier ghosted his lips along the left side of Eskel’s face, groping at his pecs through his clothing. Jaskier rolled his hips forward, rutting his half-hard cock right into the small of Eskel’s back. Always straight to the point, Jaskier was. It was part of his charm. This room was for one thing, and he wouldn’t dare control himself by pretending otherwise. Eskel was here, which means he _wanted_ something.

“Undressed,” Jaskier pressed, again. This time, he shifted back and pushed Eskel forward. “What’s on your mind?”

Eskel stood up, and Jaskier planted himself back in the sheets. He was lying on his front, this time, with his feet up in the air and swaying slightly. He rested his head in the palm of his hand and watched; Eskel didn’t go far. He stayed right in Jaskier’s line of sight as he began to pull off his armor.

“You are.”

“Oh, please,” Jaskier scoffed. “I’m always on _everyone’s_ mind. I can’t fathom a reason why I wouldn’t be. The fact that you’re here is cause enough to believe that you’re absolutely so wonderfully taken with me that you couldn’t stand another moment away. But that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

There was the smallest bout of irritated fondness written over his face as Eskel looked back at Jaskier. He was quite full of himself, at times, but that was just Jaskier. None of them would want him any other way. The way he always got straight to the point was definitely a comforting thing, too. Eskel wasn’t so used to the attention, especially not from someone quite so fine. Jaskier laid there like he was on display, his pert little ass arched in the air as he stretched himself out.

“Do you remember what we talked about?” Eskel asked, finally pulling off his shirt. He didn’t face Jaskier for this, talked and undressed away from him. Still, Jaskier got a fine eye-full of his back. Tanned, toned. Muscles twisting wonderfully as he moved.

“In the bath?” Jaskier asked. It’d been a week ago. Eskel hadn’t wanted anything more than to sit in hot water for a few hours and just _talk._ “I remember well. You’ll find I’ve quite the memory.”

Eskel quirked a smile, but it died quickly. “That. Yeah.” He started working on his boots and his belts.

“Is that what you’re looking for? Our little secret,” Jaskier hummed. Eskel set his boots and his belts aside, then started to work on the laces of his breeches. Jaskier felt the shiver go down his spine in the next moment when they dropped. “You’ve got a _gorgeous_ arse,” Jaskier said.

Eskel closed his eyes and breathed, then stepped out of his breaches. He was trying to ignore the sudden burning gaze on his back. He didn’t have to look at Jaskier to know the exact moment he turned up to his side so he could stroke his own cock. That little gasp Jaskier made gave him away. Jaskier was just watching him; Eskel was equal parts embarrassed as he was flattered.

“I’m going to take such good care of you—”

“No,” Eskel said, shaking his head. “You don’t touch.”

Jaskier sucked in a breath. “For now,” he said. “You’ll want it, though.” Because Jaskier was sure he could tell these sorts of things, and he was _right_.

Eskel shivered just at the thought of it, but it wasn’t what he was used to. Wasn’t quite what he was ready for. Maybe next time he’d let Jaskier take the reins, call him those stupid names he had like _pretty_ and _big boy_. For now, though. Eskel turned slightly to look at Jaskier over his shoulder. Definitely staring with a hand wrapped around the base of his cock. He was hard at just the sight of Eskel standing there, bare. The head of his cock was turning red, and a drop of precum pearled right at the tip.

“Maybe,” was all Eskel said. It was enough to make Jaskier grin

“Lambert put that gorgeous, wonderful mind of his to work,” Jaskier said, suddenly scrambling up. “Made something—” he hummed to himself, though it came off more like a stuttering shiver.

“You’ve sampled it, then.” Not a question. Eskel wasn’t stupid, and Jaskier wasn’t subtle.

“Oh, I will recount the tale in song, I believe. That’s the only way to do it justice, what he did to me that night.” Jaskier settled a bowl right on the side of the bed where it was easy to get to but stable enough not to spill. Eskel could see the contents were some type of oil. Lambert thought since he could make a good drink, he could make anything. Jaskier clearly believed him, still trembling at whatever memory it was he replayed as he stepped off the bed.

Jaskier took Eskel’s hands and pulled him to the bed. When Jaskier’s knees hit the edge of it, they stopped right there. Eskel liked things slow, and Jaskier liked that he liked things slow. Bleeding heart. Perfect. Jaskier wrapped his arms around Eskel’s shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss, which Eskel reciprocated with enthusiasm, gripping Jaskier’s hips to hold them steady. Eskel kissed hard, lips slotted together and teeth knocking, but Jaskier met him right back in the middle with a hard press.

He rose up on his toes, pressing their bodies flush together. Eskel groaned against his mouth, and Jaskier swiped his tongue over this lips. He felt the scars, paid special attention right there at the corner of Eskel’s lips until they parted. Jaskier practically moaned, then, tilting his head to somehow kiss deeper. Their tongues together, saliva dripping down the side of his chin. Jaskier trembled.

Suddenly, their kiss broke, and Eskel was taking hold of Jaskier’s thighs to hoist him right off the floor. Eskel got them both settled in the middle of the bed; he straddled over Jaskier’s hips and leaned back over him for another kiss. While Eskel braced himself on his elbows right around Jaskier’s head, Jaskier’s own hands shot down to Eskel’s hips where he _squeezed_ , massaged. Eskel shifted higher, and Jaskier’s hands rounded over his ass, instead. He squeezed, massaged—pulled Eskel’s cheeks apart just to have him gasping into their kiss.

“I was right,” Jaskier muttered. Eskel pulled away from his lips to trail kisses down the side of his cheek, right to the corner of his jaw. “You’re weak for that sweet stuff.”

Eskel didn’t respond with more than a hum. He latched onto a spot on Jaskier’s neck and sucked as he rolled his hips and rutted his cock into the smooth line of Jaskier’s stomach. 

“Let me,” Jaskier suddenly gasped with Eskel’s teeth on his neck. “ _Properly_ ,” he managed out. “You—you deserve it.”

Eskel all but shuddered, then, and he did exactly as Jaskier’s pressing hold asked of him. He shifted farther up Jaskier’s body, straddling his ribs instead. His straining cock rested right along Jaskier’s sternum, and somehow, that was sight enough to have Eskel groaning again, rolling forward for another heavy kiss. Jaskier ended that quickly with a slap to Eskel’s ass, sent him up again to brace himself on the headboard with a quiet command to just let himself _feel_.

“Enjoy yourself,” Jaskier said.

“Is that an order?” Eskel challenged.

“Definitely.”

Eskel grunted, but fine. He would do it. He didn’t have to wait long for it, either, because Jaskier was a _menace_ who boasted how good he was at this because he was. It’d taken one conversation for him to pick Eskel right apart, and the fruits of his strenuous labor came right to life as he licked a hard line between Eskel’s pecs. He nibbled on the skin right at the crest, sucking into it in a way that had Eskel jerking. Not used to receiving, but he craved it.

Every jolt of his hips had him inadvertently rutting into Jaskier’s chest. Finding his own pleasure as Jaskier gave and gave and gave—trailing his tongue over Eskel’s chest, following the lines of old scars, new scars, and then pressing his lips right over a pert little nipple. Eskel’s hips jerked again; he gripped white-knuckled over the headboard to steady himself, but Jaskier’s tongue was there, sucking over the pert little nub as he lapped at the underside.

“Fuck,” Eskel gasped. “That’s—”

“Good?” Jaskier suggested, pulling back. He rubbed his thumb into the wet skin, right around the outline of Eskel’s areola and his hips shifting on their own again.

“ _Good_ ,” Eskel confirmed, nodding hurriedly. 

Jaskier didn’t miss a beat, moving to Eskel’s other nipple. He lapped at it first before wrapping it in his lips. This time there was _teeth_ , on top of Jaskier’s thumb and those teasing, circling movements he made. Eskel gripped the headboard harder, his back arching down. His hips rolled. His cock was achingly hard now; embarrassment flushed through him over it. To be _leaking_ onto Jaskier’s chest from this alone—but his thoughts died quickly as Jaskier nipped down on his nipple. Sent him straight into a rippling high as the pleasure just jolted through him.

Eskel couldn’t keep his grip on the headboard. One hand shot into Jaskier’s hair, gripping at his scalp like it might ground himself. Jaskier’s free hand was just idly touching, stroking over the taut lines of his thigh, up his hip and his sides. Jaskier still sucked, moaning around Eskel’s nipple as they finally crossed that threshold. Eskel was rutting his own hips, now, _purposefully_ trying to find pleasure in the crease of Jaskier’s chest. The way he was hunched over made it difficult, but he was trying. Giving into himself.

Jaskier pulled back, dropping his head down into the pillows. He pinched Eskel’s nipples, tweaking them before just pressing his palms into Eskel’s chest. Eskel was flushed, and if that wasn’t enough to nearly send Jaskier straight over the edge, he wasn’t sure what would.

“What do you want, big boy?” Jaskier hummed, digging the heels of his palms right over those sensitive peaks. “We gotta open you up.”

“Let me,” Eskel managed. “That okay?”

Jaskier visibly trembled beneath him. “As if that’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever imagined, fuck. Here.” Jaskier pulled the bowl closer, letting it rest up against Eskel’s leg to ensure it wouldn’t pour over. “Dip your fingers in,” Jaskier said, and though he spoke through heavily panted breaths, there was an _order_ somewhere in there. “You’ll feel it tingle.”

Eskel did what he was told, dragging two fingers through the oil. It _did_ tingle, and he shuddered at the thought of what this might feel like against his skin. He didn’t wait to find out. Eskel reached behind himself, rocking his hips as he did, and stroked down right through his cleft. That tingle Jaskier promised was suddenly that much more intense, and Eskel gasped. Jaskier steadied him, holding onto his hips.

“Shall I walk you through it?” Jaskier hummed. Eskel might have done something to wipe that cheeky grin off his face, but he was a bit preoccupied.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, instead. He spread his fingers down through his cleft, rubbing the oil right over his hole. His thighs clenched up at the feeling, his toes curling. He closed his eyes and leaned over, bracing himself on the sheets instead of the headboard.

“I think I shall give Lambert the most exquisite sort of _thank you_ , later,” Jaskier hummed, massaging little circles into Eskel’s hips. “What do you think he’d like?”

“Suck his fucking cock,” Eskel grumbled. “How should I know?”

Jaskier grinned. The moment Eskel finally pressed a finger into himself, he groaned and hunched forward. That shut Jaskier up instantly, after another muttering of how he was _definitely_ going to find a good excuse to get on his knees for Lambert. The way that oil was affecting Eskel was brilliantly perfect. The way it had him doubled over in the tingling pleasure put him in just the right position for Jaskier to latch onto his nipple again. Eskel’s hips bucked involuntarily; he tried to just focus.

Eskel worked his first finger in as deep as he could manage, shifting to find just the right angle to press in another knuckle. He spread the oil inside of himself, and it spread such warmth right through him. He worked in another finger as quickly as he could, stopping only to drench his fingers in oil again. It dripped from him, straight down onto Jaskier’s skin. Jaskier moaned into Eskel’s chest, pulling back just to watch how Eskel’s face scrunched up with _pleasure_.

“That feel good, big guy?” Jaskier asked. He moved his hands to pet down Eskel’s chest, instead, pinching those sensitive nipples as he went. Eskel shuddered and nodded, hips rocking. He still managed to nod, but he missed how one of Jaskier’s hands disappeared.

Jaskier dipped his own fingers into the oil, curling around Eskel’s hip to press against him.

“Fuck,” Eskel grunted, but he nodded. He nodded quickly, and then Jaskier was pressing a finger into him right alongside his own.

“Look at you,” Jaskier marveled. He pressed his finger in _deep_ , right at once, and Eskel spasmed around their fingers. There was so much oil, and every piece of skin it touched was just alight with everything. Eskel’s cock was dripping over Jaskier’s chest, leaving a mess behind while he fucked right through it.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jaskier just continued. The way that Eskel’s jaw dropped open as Jaskier worked in another finger— _four_ fingers tucked up inside of him—had Jaskier’s own hips bucking up uselessly. “Need to do this more often,” Jaskier said. “Lay you out, spread out these massive thighs of yours. Oh, _fuck_ , Eskel, I would take such good care of you.”

He crooked his fingers in deeper, helping guide Eskel inside. He knew just where to look, and once he found that spot, he had Eskel moaning on top of him with his hips rocking back and forth. Unsure of where to find his pleasure.

“Maybe you can have the room next,” Jaskier continued. He mouthed over Eskel’s chest, shivering against him. “They would _love_ you like this. Maybe all three of us? Fuck—” Jaskier groaned. Eskel was rutting into him, too lost in himself to be listening to the filth spewing out of Jaskier’s mouth. “I’d ride this fucking massive cock of yours. Look how easily you take four fingers. You could take them both, couldn’t you? Lambert and Geralt—let them fuck you like you deserve.”

Eskel groaned, hips stuttering. “I’m— Not gonna last,” he muttered. Just the thought of what Jaskier was saying had him all bunched up again, pleasure absolutely overwhelming. Would they even want him? Jaskier seemed to think they would. Jaskier seemed to think no one would want anything _more_ than to have a taste of this, and he was lucky enough to get to sample first.

“Fuck, you’re ready.” Jaskier said, pulling his fingers back. Eskel pulled his own out a minute later, wiping them on Jaskier’s chest with the rest of his mess. The left-over oil tingled right through Jaskier’s skin, had him moaning. He squeezed Eskel’s hips, squeezed the skin of his ass and pulled him open.

“Get me ready,” Jaskier said, his voice heavy with want.

Eskel did just that, trailing his fingers back through their oil and reaching behind himself to find Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier was impossibly hard, and just the weight of him in his hand had Eskel groaning. Jaskier had hardly been touched, but just watching the way Eskel lost himself was enough to have him like this. Eskel was quick to make sure Jaskier was compensated for his patience.

Jaskier cried out, hips bucking, as Eskel grabbed the base of his cock. He squeezed just right, nearly enough for it to hurt but not so much that it needed to stop. That same hard grip trailed the length of Jaskier’s cock as Eskel stroked him. He made sure Jaskier was slick, dripping in that oil, until he finally shifted back. Jaskier’s cock rested right in the cleft of his ass for a moment, Eskel grinding back against it. Jaskier shifted, moaning, and grabbed Eskel’s hips.

“Come on, big boy,” Jaskier said. “Want to see you bounce on my cock. Bet you’ll look fucking gorgeous.”

Eskel raised his hips up and positioned Jaskier’s cock, pressed up right against his rim. He shuddered for just a moment, bracing himself on Jaskier’s chest. It all felt so intense, but he just wanted more. He rocked himself down, catching himself on the head of Jaskier’s prick, and then pressing down. Down. Eskel’s brows pressed together, his jaw dropped open, and he moaned out as Jaskier breached him. Eskel stalled for just a moment, near spasming around the weight inside of him.

He rocked himself slowly, working just the head of Jaskier’s cock inside of him. After a moment, he began the slow descent down the shaft. He didn’t stop until he was fully seated in Jaskier’s lap, fists gripped into his chest.

“Fuck,” Jaskier gasped. “ _Fuck_.” Eskel’s hips were twitching, his walls clenched down around Jaskier. It was _everything_. Intense. Hot. Perfect. Jaskier reached around and gripped into his ass cheeks, giving him a firm swat to the left side to get Eskel to start moving.

The initial _drag_ of Eskel raising up was enough to have Jaskier groaning. He squeezed into Eskel’s hips, steadying the both of them, and everything just _began_. Eskel dropped back down hard, raised again just as fast. The pace he set was fast, hard; his thighs clenched and spasmed, and Jaskier dragged his hands down to feel every blessed movement, every strain. Eskel was panting, already, sweat along his brow. Each time he bottomed out, he ground down into Jaskier’s hips, feeling just how deep his cock could reach.

Eskel groaned, a constant stream of just sounds he didn’t even know he could make as he worked himself down, up. It felt like a punch straight to the gut each time, raw pleasure streaming through him as Jaskier’s cock breached him open again and again. He couldn’t hold himself up. His hands went from Jaskier’s chest to the bed around his head. Eskel’s arms were shaking, his thighs were— _he_ was shaking. Taken with the pleasure, the feeling of Jaskier’s cock inside of him. The drag of it, the weight.

Then, Jaskier had the audacity to put his mouth to Eskel’s chest again, making him spasm.

“Jaskier—” Eskel’s breathed died in his throat, a strangled moan. Jaskier mouthed over his nipple, grabbing Eskel around the chest instead of his hips. Eskel was stilled, distracted, and not expecting Jaskier’s sudden shift. Knees now bent, Jaskier had some leverage, and he used it.

Their hips slapped together, awful, wet noises between them as more oil dripped. Jaskier’s hips snapped up, fucking right into Eskel to _remind_ him just what they were doing. Eskel worked himself back, meeting each one of Jaskier’s abortive, stuttering thrusts with his own until they settled into a pace. Hard, fast, the pure drag of Jaskier inside of him almost enough to send him right over the edge, right there.

“Touch yourself, big boy,” Jaskier muttered, then. “I got you.”

Eskel couldn’t move fast enough to comply, moving to get a hand around his cock. At the first touch, his walls clenched down, and Jaskier cried out. He squeezed Eskel’s chest, grounding _himself_ now. Eskel was tight, _hot_ , and that oil made everything tingle, so much better. They were moving with abandon, Eskel fucking into his own fist as he chased the end.

It came in a sudden white flash. Eskel cried out, spending over Jaskier’s chest and squeezing around his cock. Eskel’s whole body went tight with it, taut as his orgasm wracked through him. Left him trembling. Moaning. Jaskier wasn’t far behind, not with _that_ performance right on top of him. The way Eskel’s walls had spasmed and clenched around him was enough to nearly milk Jaskier’s orgasm right out of him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jaskier groaned. “I’m sorry—should have asked, fuck—”

“It’s fine,” Eskel muttered; his voice sounded absolutely wrecked. He leaned over Jaskier, not _quite_ ready to pull off of him, and just stroked back through his hair. “Exactly what I wanted,” he slurred.

“Melitele’s tits, Eskel,” Jaskier breathed. His slid his hands up to cup Eskel’s face, instead. “Next time, and there _has_ to be a next time, I am going to take such good care of you.”

Eskel hummed in response, leaning down to shut that right up with a hard kiss. Jaskier was softening inside of him, now, but that didn’t stop Eskel from squeezing down, grinding his hips in a meticulous little circle to have Jaskier gasping into their kiss.

Jaskier groaned, running his fingers back through Eskel’s hair. He knew _exactly_ how next time should go, and it was going to be a lot of Eskel down on his knees, hands behind his back, and the word _sir_ on his lips. Eventually, Eskel might even agree to have Geralt and Lambert be a part of it. It wasn’t like the four of them hadn’t ever tumbled into bed before, but Jaskier was always the main course, the center attention. It would be different if Eskel was the one down on his knees, blindfolded and cocks being fed down his throat.

“Whatever you’re thinking about,” Eskel grunted, “quit it. I have to get back.”

Jaskier whined. “Fine. I’ll lie in here lonely and jerk myself off, is that what you want?”

“Down to the detail.” Eskel kissed Jaskier’s forehead before easing himself off Jaskier’s stiffening cock. “We can talk this evening.”

Jaskier hummed. He was looking forward to that. In the meantime, he just shifted to his side so he could watch Eskel’s diligent clean up. He never stayed long, but Jaskier would savor every extra second he got to stare.


	2. Lambert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some hot dom lambert because i can't get over myself
> 
> enjoy!

Lambert was never shy when he came to the room. He came right in, toed off his boots at the door, then padded across the room to the edge of the bed. Jaskier had his back to the door, curled onto his side and half-asleep, but he felt the dip in the mattress and responded instantly. He rolled onto his back just as Lambert hovered over him. In a practiced dance, they met together in a kiss. It was soft, chaste. The only one they’d share of the night in such a fashion.

All of Lambert’s armor was still on. The only thing he’d removed was his boots. A glove hand rested along Jaskier’s jaw as they kissed, then slipped down his neck, over his chest, to rest a single moment at the jut of Jaskier’s hip. Jaskier shifted towards Lambert, and that was when Lambert finished his descent. He grabbed Jaskier’s half-hard cock in his hand and squeezed. Their kiss broke right apart as Jaskier gasped and cried out, his own hand flying down to Lambert’s wrist, instantly.

“Lambert—” Jaskier gasped. It hurt. It actually hurt. Lambert’s fingers were digging right into the crease of his balls, and the whole of his cock was overtaken just by Lambert’s hand alone.

“Ask nicely,” Lambert said. “You say _thunderbolt_ to stop, or you say _sir_.”

Jaskier gulped. That was how Lambert wanted to play, today, but he always gave Jaskier a chance to cut it off if he didn’t. Always softer than he appeared, Lambert. Jaskier might have kissed him again if not for the crushing grip on his cock.

“It h-hurts, sir,” Jaskier said. “P-please.”

Lambert grinned and pressed a kiss into Jaskier’s forehead, letting him go. “Such a good little boy,” he said. “I’m going to slap you so pretty. Would you like that?”

Jaskier nodded. “Please, sir,” he begged. Oh, and he meant it. “But—” then, he swallowed. He wasn’t supposed to talk out of turn.

“What is it? Speak up.”

“Can I help you get undressed, sir?” Jaskier didn’t meet Lambert’s eye. “Please?”

Lambert raised an eyebrow, suddenly a bit taken aback. Questions weren’t something Jaskier usually asked when they did this, but this one was worth mulling over. Before answering, Lambert shifted back off the bed and stood not an arm’s length away from it.

“Just my armor,” he said, “because you asked so nicely.”

Jaskier scrambled off of the bed. He helped Lambert remove his armor, no matter how shaky his hands were. Jaskier peeled of Lambert’s pauldrons, his gauntlets. He pulled off straps, then ended down on his knees as he pulled off Lambert’s belt. Jaskier didn’t dare raise back up to his feet, not with the way Lambert was looking at him. The light smirk on his lips, the way those eyes were _hungry._ Jaskier shuddered and backed up just slightly on his knees as Lambert crowded him closer to the bed, took him by the chin.

“So good,” Lambert crooned. “You want to be good, don’t you?”

Jaskier nodded, biting down on his lip to keep himself quiet. Lambert tilted his head from side to side, looking at him, _inspecting_ him. Jaskier shivered at the implication: Lambert sizing him up, making sure he was good enough for this. Worthy of it, even. He stroked his thumb over Jaskier’s lips, pulling them open so he could run his touch over his teeth, back through his tongue. Jaskier watched with bated breath as Lambert’s free hand went to his laces, tugging open his own breeches.

Lambert wasn’t even _hard_ when he pulled himself out of his pants. Even so, his cock was thick; Jaskier wanted his mouth on it. Wanted to spend the rest of his day worshiping it, if Lambert would let him, but Lambert’s thumb was still in his mouth, tugging his cheek to the side to make him open wider.

“Hands behind your back,” Lambert snapped, and Jaskier scrambled to comply. He wrapped his arms behind his back, holding his elbows in the opposite hands. “You’ll tap my thigh if you need it to stop, won’t you?”

Jaskier nodded. He stayed perfectly still as Lambert tugged his lips open and shifted closer. He fed his soft cock right between Jaskier’s lips, rubbing along his tongue. Jaskier closed his eyes and just let himself take it. Even soft, Lambert nearly reached his throat. Jaskier swallowed, eager to have _more_. But Lambert didn’t move.

“I better not feel any teeth,” Lambert barked. “You don’t want to know what I’ll do to you, then.”

Jaskier whimpered, nodding. His eyes were still closed, and he was reveling in the weight of Lambert’s cock in his mouth. He barely registered the first slap to his face; it was so light. Just a test to see what he could take. The next slap was harder, and Jaskier whimpered. He had to hold his head still, and that just made the sting worse. Made his neck strain as the third slap came, and it was harder. Sharper. Lambert always threatened the _best_ punishments, and as fondly as Jaskier thought back on the last one, he liked being good, better.

Lambert slapped him again, his other cheek this time. Both cheeks were already turning red. Lambert hit him again and again, both sides of his face at the same time. Jaskier closed his eyes tightly and whined, shivering through each brutal touch. His whole face was stinging, turning red from the onslaught. Lambert slapped him again, again, then grabbed him by the sides of his head and forced him down deeper on his cock. Jaskier nearly gagged, his eyes going wide in surprise.

“Better make it worth my while if you want your sorry ass fucked,” Lambert bit.

Jaskier’s only response was a long, pitched keen as Lambert began to fuck his mouth. Jaskier went slack jawed and let his tongue do the work, curling around the underside of Lambert’s prick. He could feel Lambert getting harder, twitching to life in his mouth. Thicker, longer, _heaver_. Jaskier shivered, let the feeling just completely and totally consume him. He squeezed his hands, his fingernails into his elbows. Jaskier knew the exact moment Lambert was fully hard, because the head of his cock dipped into Jaskier’s throat each time he fucked forward.

“Fuck,” Lambert groaned. “Perfect little cock slut.”

Lambert slapped him again, and Jaskier whined. His neck hurt with the strain it took to keep his head still, but he reveled in _everything_. The feeling of Lambert’s cock dragging over his tongue, fucking into his throat. Lambert thrust deeply, burying the full length of his cock into Jaskier’s mouth and throat each time. His balls slapped against Jaskier’s chin; Jaskier was drooling around the thickness in his mouth. It was one big mess, and fuck, if it didn’t feel good.

All at once, Lambert pulled away. He grabbed Jaskier under his arms and hauled him up to his feet, throwing him back towards the bed. It went straight to his cock—Jaskier nearly lost himself right there at the way Lambert could just throw him around.

“Bend over the side of the bed,” Lambert ordered, and Jaskier did just that. “Arms behind your back—” punctuated with a sudden, hard slap across Jaskier’s thighs. “I didn’t say you could move them.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier gasped. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Yeah, I bet you are. Just a sorry little whore.” Lambert delivered another hard swat, without warning. Jaskier gasped, shifting forward on the bed.

Lambert spanked him with both hands in quick succession, driving down hard over Jaskier’s cheeks until they were turning a bright shade of red. Jaskier was trembling, struggling to keep his arms behind his back. His face was pressed into the sheets, a mess with tears as the pain started to radiate. He was _sore_ , everywhere, it felt. And Lambert just kept hitting him. Harder, each time. Over the small of his back, the swell of his ass, over his thighs. Jaskier’s toes dug into the carpet beneath them.

He blubbered, sobbed as Lambert struck him again. Jaskier shifted, jolted, dragged his face along the sheets. Then, suddenly, Lambert’s hands were just on him, resting over his hips and rubbing little circles into his skin with his thumbs.

“Good boy,” Lambert told him. He dragged his hands up Jaskier’s back, just touching him. Feeling the way he trembled. “What do we say?”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Jaskier garbled out. He squeaked when Lambert pinched him. “Thank you—” Jaskier broke off into a litany of thanks and whines as Lambert pinches his skin, leaving red marks down from where his arms were folded behind his back all the way to the swell of his ass. Then, Lambert spanked him again. Hard enough that Jaskier shouted. But gods, his cock was hard between his thighs, grinding into the bedsheets each time Lambert hit him.

“Get on the bed, hands and knees,” Lambert ordered.

“Sir—yes, sir,” Jaskier managed out. “Can I—may I move my arms, sir?”

Jaskier was rewarded with a hard drag of Lambert’s fingers over his cheeks, scratching through the already abraded skin. “You may,” he said. “Such a good boy for asking.”

Jaskier shuddered. “Thank you, sir,” he muttered.

Lambert watched as Jaskier struggled to pull himself up onto the bed. He was completely lost in the lingering, stinging pain, had nearly let it take him somewhere else. His limbs felt like jelly, but he positioned himself in the middle of the bed on his hands and knees, just like Lambert asked. Once he was there, he kept completely still.

“Arms behind your back,” Lambert suddenly barked. “Changed my mind.”

Jaskier did as he was told, letting his face hit the sheets as he folded his arms behind his back, again. Like this, he couldn’t _see_ anything. He could only hear as Lambert began to disrobe. He wanted to look, he wanted to _see_ , but even if he faced the direction Lambert was in, Lambert wasn’t in his line of sight.

“Looking for something?” Lambert asked, amusement raw in his voice.

“Want to see you, sir,” Jaskier mumbled.

Lambert snorted. Once he was naked, he moved up onto the bed and delivered another swat to Jaskier’s already aching skin. Jaskier whimpered and whined, but he knew better than to try and pull away. Lambert was even impressed; the sound he made was so warm. Jaskier whimpered, closing his eyes again. He was desperate to be touched, desperate to finally be allowed _something._ He wasn’t made to wait for long.

The next touch was slick and tingly, Lambert’s fingers between his cheeks just dripping in oil. Jaskier gasped almost instantly and spread his knees out just a little wider. Lambert pulled him open, thumb digging into the meat of his ass. He massaged the oil right over Jaskier’s quivering hole, rough enough that Jaskier could feel the prick of nail every now and again. It just sent a jolt up through his spine. Pure pleasure. Pure _want_. His thighs were trembling by the time Lambert pulled his fingers away.

“You’re a fucking slut,” Lambert spat. “Are you going to come, Jaskier, hm?” Lambert leaned over him. “Just from this?”

“N-No, sir,” Jaskier managed back, but his voice was shaky and betrayed just how close to the edge he already was. He _felt_ ashamed for it. He had hardly been touched, and already, his cock was leaking a mess onto the sheets beneath him.

Lambert huffed. “We’ll see,” he said, but Jaskier didn’t know what it meant. All he knew was that Lambert was touching him, again, a slick finger up against his hole. Jaskier shuddered at the touch.

It slipped in easily, and Lambert took his time spreading oil. Jaskier was dripping in it by the time a second finger finally probed against his hole, and that _stretch_ had Jaskier gasping out, rutting his hips back. That got him a hefty swat to the right side of his ass.

“Stay still,” Lambert ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Jaskier gasped. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Always fucking sorry,” Lambert spat. “Next time, I want you to fuck yourself open for me. Shouldn’t have to work you open every time, should I? Slut like you should just be ready for my cock.”

Jaskier shivered, nodding into the sheets. They were soft, but they still dragged and tugged at his sore skin. He couldn’t help but press his face into them a little harder just to feel that burn.

Suddenly, Lambert grabbed him by his arms and used that leverage to fuck Jaskier back onto his fingers. Jaskier let himself be dragged and pushed, moaning into the sheets as Lambert’s fingers worked deeper and deeper with every thrust. Lambert’s fingers spread open, and next thing Jaskier knew, he was being fucked back onto three, thick fingers. His breath stuttered; his hips rocked. He cried out into the sheets as Lambert stretched them apart, worked them deeper, somehow, still and crooked them inside.

“Ah!” Jaskier shouted. “Oh— _fuck_ , I—” He cut off, immediately, when Lambert struck him again. He bit down on his lip to keep himself from talking, then. Another strike didn’t come.

“You open up so fucking easy,” Lambert marveled. “How much do you think you could take? My whole fist, maybe?” Lambert chuckled to himself as Jaskier whimpered. “Another time, little lark,” he said.

He pulled his fingers back and dripped more oil down Jaskier’s cleft, rubbing it into him. A nice, pleasant massage in stark contrast to the pounding he’d just received. And more was coming. Jaskier held his breath as he felt Lambert’s cockhead against him, right over his hole and just shifting. Touching. Lambert rolled his hips slowly, rocking himself between Jaskier’s spread open cheeks.

“Do you think you deserve this?” Lambert asked. When he shifted, pressed forward, Jaskier could feel almost the entire length of him pressed up against his skin. It made him shudder.

“N-No,” he managed to say. “But— But _please_ , sir, please. Let me. Let me have your cock. I-I want to earn it.”

Lambert hummed, dragging his fingers, hooked like claws, down Jaskier’s tender backside. “You always talk so cute, little lark. Know how to get what you want.”

Jaskier whimpered, digging his fingers into the bedsheets. “Please,” he said again, weaker this time. “L-let me make you feel good, sir.”

“Fuck,” Lambert hissed. “We’re too fucking good to you. Someone needs to start treating you a bit rougher, don’t they?”

Jaskier shuddered. Trembled. He didn’t have the mind nor time to respond before Lambert was pushing into him. Jaskier’s breath left him, and he just went entirely still, trying to relax at the sudden breach, the stretch of it. Lambert moved slowly, groaning through every inch he disappeared inside. When he finally bottomed out, Lambert took one deep breath. Jaskier did, too, trying to collect himself. He felt so full, like Lambert was fucking all the way into his stomach, already, and he hadn’t even _moved_.

“Chain you up in the mess hall like a dog,” Lambert said, suddenly. “You’d do anything anyone said, wouldn’t you?” Jaskier nodded, too far gone already to formulate the words. “Such an obedient little bitch,” Lambert crooned. He gave Jaskier two hard swats, one hand on each cheek, then grabbed him roughly by the hips.

Lambert fucked into him with abandon, setting a hard and fast pace. Their hips slapped together as Lambert bottomed out each time, abusing Jaskier’s red skin even further. Jaskier just cried out, moaned. His voice was hoarse, already, sounded absolutely fucking wrecked. Lambert couldn’t help but moan at the sound, shifting his hips just slightly. The next drag of his cock had Jaskier near screaming as Lambert fucked right into his prostate. Jaskier’s thighs started to tremble, and just when he thought he might collapse entirely, Lambert was wrapping an arm around his chest.

He was dragged back with a shout, all the way up to his knees with his back to Lambert’s chest. Lambert tilted his head just enough that they could kiss a kiss built on teeth and tongue, drool dripping down from Jaskier’s chin. When the kiss ended, Jaskier leaned his head back on Lambert’s shoulder, into his neck. Every noise that left his throat was breathy and desperate. Lambert had an arm wrapped around him, fingers splayed over his pelvis to press down and make sure he could feel _everything_ inside of himself.

“Sing for me, pretty bird,” Lambert said.

Jaskier just gasped harder as Lambert fucked into him. His thrusts slowed, but each one was punctuated and _hard_ , Jaskier slapping back into Lambert’s pelvis, his thighs. His whole body was a mess of shakes; his cock bobbed, dripped in precum each time Lambert breached into him.

“I said _sing_ ,” Lambert repeated, and this time, he grabbed Jaskier’s throat.

“Fuck—” Jaskier cried out. Words, words— “It—so _good_ ,” Jaskier gasped. “Fuck, please— _harder_ —”

“Harder?” Lambert hummed, curious. “I can do _harder_ , little lark.”

He pushed Jaskier back down into the pillows, tearing his legs out from under him so he was flat on the bed. Lambert used the whole weight of his body to fuck Jaskier, then, sinking inside of him _hard_ , as fast as he could manage. Jaskier could hardly find the air to breathe, let alone the space to think. His voice turned raw, into a litany of _please_ and _fuck_ as Lambert just kept going. Railing into him like he was an animal and Jaskier was just some warm hole to sink his cock. 

Jaskier sucked in a hard breath as he felt _more—_ Lambert’s thumb against his opening, drenched in oil, and pressing in. And gods, Jaskier opened right up for the new intrusion. Lambert’s thumb slipped inside, pulled him open wider.

“Fuck—fuck, fuck, _fuck, fuckfuck_ —” Jaskier babbled into the pillows, gripping his fingers into the bed. “Fuck, Lambert, I’m—!” He didn’t make out another word before his orgasm stole through his body. Every one of Lambert’s punishing thrusts had him moving in the bed, rutting his cock into the fine sheets. The extra stretch was enough to send him hurdling over the edge, nearly screaming as his trapped cock spasmed and spent in what little space it had

Jaskier was sure he must have passed out, even if for only a second, because when he managed to open his eyes again, Lambert was just rocking into him. Slowly, deeply. Jaskier could feel everything, and fuck, if it didn’t send him straight to another realm. Lambert fucking into him, the thick, the length of his cock. Jaskier clenched down around him, then felt Lambert’s hands smooth up his back.

“Hey, little lark,” Lambert said, and he said it so softly that Jaskier could have cried. “You with me?”

Jaskier nodded. He either said _thunderbolt_ or he said _sir_. “Y-yes, sir,” he muttered.

“Good boy,” came Lambert’s whisper, right up against the shell of his ear.

When Lambert pulled back, the onslaught began again. Only this time, Jaskier’s whole body was pliant and limp. Jaskier let his eyes close, his jaw drop open. He didn’t do anything but _feel_ how Lambert used him, fucked him open. Jaskier didn’t know how long it took, or what happened, only that he was crying out in a sudden wash of warmth as Lambert fucked in deep and came. Lambert’s hips stuttered, still fucking into Jaskier as his orgasm came over him. He groaned as it took him, until it finally stopped, and then he stilled.

“Fuck,” Lambert panted. “You were made for this.”

Jaskier gave a lazy agreement.

“Bringing toys next winter,” Lambert said, and he said if fondly. He still hadn’t pulled out, but he leaned down to pepper kisses along the nape of Jaskier’s neck, the tops of his shoulders. “Bet you’d look real pretty with a collar on, little lark.”

Jaskier shuddered, and the way he moved had Lambert groaning as the heat around him went tight.

“Knew you’d like that,” he groaned. “Such a slut.” He pulled back, listening the way Jaskier moaned at the loss inside of him. “Geralt better take good care of you out there.”

Jaskier nodded. “He does,” then he rolled onto his back as Lambert slipped away. “Been talking about spending a year with someone else, though,” he said. That caught Lambert’s attention, and in a split second, he was on top of Jaskier again with fingers in his hair and a hard kiss to his mouth. Jaskier gasped, moaned in surprise, but he melted against Lambert. Let him do as he pleased, kiss him hard, and deep. Jaskier even spread his thighs out, gave Lambert a comfortable place to lay where his cock was nestled up in the crook of Jaskier’s thigh and pelvis, still very much hard.

When Lambert pulled back, Jaskier chuckled. “I take it you want me to come with you?”

“Fuck, yes,” Lambert replied. “Cart you around behind my horse on a fucking leash.”

Jaskier shuddered. “I want to ride you,” he said. “Right now.”

“What do you say?” Lambert hummed, and the purr in his voice sent a shock right down Jaskier’s spine.

“Please, sir,” he said. “I want to sit on your cock until I can’t fucking _move_.”

“Such a nasty mouth.”

Lambert flipped them, pulling Jaskier up as he moved down to the bed. It was a scramble, after, for Jaskier to get himself lined up with the head of Lambert’s prick. He didn’t waste any time impaling himself down, and he took Lambert all the way to the hilt with the first drop. Lambert moaned for him, hips bucking up. Jaskier braced himself on Lambert’s broad chest and worked himself back like his life depended on it, rolling his hips in little circles, grinding himself down. He’d keep Lambert in here all day with him, if he could.

Lambert had the perfect view as Jaskier fucked himself down, his cock disappearing into that deliciously tight heat over and over. Jaskier was dripping in oil, in spend. He smelled like a whore, looked like one. Lambert wrapped his arms up around Jaskier’s waist to pull him closer. He fucked his hips up, hard.

“Don’t know what you’d do a whole year without me,” Lambert growled, right into his ear. “Look at you, how desperate you are for my cock.”

“Fuck—” Jaskier gasped.

Jaskier fully intended to not be able to leave this room without being carried out, and Lambert fully intended to be the reason that happened. Hoped to lick the mess right out of him when they were done, leave Jaskier’s legs trembling and shaking so hard he couldn’t move. Lambert would even carry him out of here, right back to his room where he intended to sit himself on Jaskier’s cock at least once. Fuck Jaskier again just for good measure. It would be one _hell_ of a night.


	3. Geralt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the thrilling conclusion!
> 
> does contain consensual drugging :) if you guys like this, consider checking out my other works or my tumblr!
> 
> ao3 wouldn't let me update this fic as finished for some reason, so i had to repost the chapter. sorry!

Geralt came in later in the evening. He brought food, because he always had a part of his mind set aside for taking care of Jaskier: making sure he was fed and properly hydrated. He also had drink, though something was a bit strange about it when he placed the tray on the nightstand. Jaskier was entirely ready to just ignore the food altogether. He was naked and _always_ desperate. That was the point of the room. He crawled over to Geralt, draping himself over Geralt’s shoulders to trail kisses down his face.

Geralt didn’t reciprocate with more than a pat to Jaskier’s arm. He was more concerned with the food. Which, fine. Jaskier could eat if it would make Geralt happy, but it wasn’t even the _food_ Geralt cared about.

“I want you to drink this,” Geralt said.

“Why? I’m not even thirsty,” Jaskier argued. “It’s tea, isn’t it?”

“A special tea. I brewed it myself.” Geralt held the small cup up for Jaskier. “It’ll help you relax.”

“I’m already relaxed. Bet I could slide down your cock right _now_ if you’d just let me. Please, Geralt. You always make me wait so long.”

“Hush.” Geralt’s voice was firm. “You’ll be so relaxed, you won’t even be able to move,” Geralt explained. “We’ve tested it out, already.”

Jaskier gulped. “You—you tested it? Oh, Geralt, please. Tell me about that. I’ll drink it, but you have to tell me what happened.”

Geralt gave an idle smirk. Jaskier sounded desperate. He wanted the imagery to dream about as much as he wanted to throw the tea back _now_ and let Geralt do whatever he wanted. Geralt provided for him, as he always did. Eskel had been the one to drink the tea, and that thought alone had Jaskier shuddering. Eskel, helpless, lying on his back. Geralt had watched it all; Lambert had spread Eskel’s legs open, drenched his fingers in oil, and pressed two inside of him almost instantly.

Eskel had been so out of it that his lips hardly moved when he groaned. His noises came straight from his throat, pure _pleasure_ as Lambert eased into him, fucking him open with so little preparation it was obscene. Lambert liked it best when it was wet and messy, and Eskel had just been dripping in oil. He laid there, entirely motionless, as Lambert fucked into him. Fucked into him _hard_. All Eskel could do was feel it, and he’d made such perfect noises.

“I want to see you like that,” Geralt said. “I want to see what I can do to you.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier gasped. “Okay. Okay, _fuck_ , give me the tea.”

Geralt chuckled. “Drink it slowly. You’ll feel the effects quickly.”

Jaskier sat back on the bed with the cup of tea in his hands. He took a few bites of cheese as Geralt presented them, and then he drank the tea. Slowly, as Geralt had instructed. Almost instantly, he felt the tingling in his stomach. While he sipped, he watched Geralt stand from the bed and begin to disrobe. Jaskier always liked this part, watching Geralt remove his armor, his clothes. Geralt didn’t stop until he was standing there naked, and Jaskier had the perfect line of sight to the massive cock hanging between his thighs.

A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine. Already, his legs felt motionless. He could feel the strength leaving his arms. He didn’t think he’d be able to hold the teacup for much longer, so he finished the last few gulps all at once. Geralt walked across the room to him as he did and was there as Jaskier’s fingers finally went loose. Geralt caught the cup before it hit Jaskier’s lap or the bed and set it to the side as Jaskier went limp enough that he couldn’t sit up any longer.

“How’s that feel?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier glanced at him. “Really weird,” he slurred. Then, Geralt touched him, and he gasped. He couldn’t move _at all_ , not for anything. Not even to arch his chest up into Geralt’s touch as he glanced a teasing finger around Jaskier’s left nipple, tracing the outline of his areola.

“I can do anything to you,” Geralt whispered. “Do you want that?”

Jaskier tried to nod, _felt_ himself nod, but nothing happened.

“Use your words, Jaskier,” Geralt said, still making that painfully teasing circle. Jaskier felt himself trembling, but he wasn’t moving.

“I want it,” he muttered, words half-formed and abortive. He could barely even move his mouth.

Geralt leaned down, then, suddenly, so close that his lips brushed against Jaskier’s ear as he spoke. “I’m going to fucking _breed_ you,” Geralt said.

Jaskier whimpered. He was trapped in a room with a true Wolf, unable to move. The first jolt through his body of was pure pleasure at the idea: letting Geralt do whatever he wanted. It was practically a dream come true. On top of it, he could rest easy knowing that, in another tall room in the keep, Eskel was in the same predicament. Helpless with no other purpose than to take a thick cock inside him until his Wolf was pleased.

Geralt stood from the bed, then immediately grabbed Jaskier by the legs. He yanked him all the way to the edge of the bed, then flipped him onto his front. Jaskier let out a gasp, a breathy moan. Geralt pressed him down into the bed to make sure he didn’t slide right off, and then there were two thick fingers between his cheeks.

“Would have expected you to be wet,” Geralt said. “Have you been lonely all day?”

Jaskier whimpered when Geralt’s fingers left him. Geralt spread them through the bowl of Lambert’s tingling oil, then went right back between Jaskier’s cheeks. The response was immediate, how Jaskier gasped like he meant to jump. It was _cold_ , and the thrumming pleasure began instantly. Geralt massaged around his hole just to make him squirm or try to. When Geralt pressed inside, he went in with two fingers. Jaskier bloomed right open for him, so painfully relaxed that there was no resistance left in his muscles.

Geralt pumped his fingers into him, working that oil in nice and deep with each pass. Jaskier was trembling around him, letting out breathy gasps and keens when Geralt crooked his fingers just right. Geralt was thorough, making sure Jaskier was slick. Geralt’s cock was thick, hardening now just at the sight of Jaskier bent over and helpless. He’d need all the help he could get to fit it inside. Jaskier was oh, so willing, but he was tight. The perfect little hole to fuck and breed.

When Geralt pulled his fingers back, he wiped them off on the small of Jaskier’s back before grabbing him by the hips and throwing him back onto the bed. He rolled onto his back from the force of Geralt’s toss. His head lolled to the side so he couldn’t see as Geralt crawled onto the bed after him, but he could feel it. He felt the dip as Geralt came closer, then the _warmth_ as Geralt straddled over his hips and turned his head to the ceiling.

“You look so pretty like this,” Geralt said, then leaned down to bite the last word. “ _Helpless_.”

Jaskier nearly squeaked. He didn’t know how he was going to last like this, not with the way Geralt was looking at him like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. His pupils were blown wide, and he looked like he might really take a bite out of Jaskier. Geralt ducked down to press an open, sloppy kiss to Jaskier’s lips. Jaskier couldn’t kiss back, could only _moan_ as Geralt’s teeth nipped at his lips, pulled his mouth open so he could fuck his tongue inside.

Geralt’s hands made themselves busy, working down his chest and feeling over his pert little nipples. Jaskier shivered under the touch—Geralt knew right where to head. His fingers dug into Jaskier’s ribs, thumbing over his nipples until his body was flush and red, trembling. Jaskier whined into Geralt’s mouth, and then Geralt pulled back. He moved to the side, trailing kisses along Jaskier’s jaw, down his neck. He bit down right over Jaskier’s pulse, and the resounding sound was enough to have Geralt shuddering.

A hand disappeared so Geralt could clamp down at the base of his cock, trying to keep himself composed. Jaskier was falling apart from touch alone, and Geralt was living for it. He stroked himself as he kissed down Jaskier’s chest, then lapped over his right nipple. Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat. He trembled, keened, and cried out as teeth dug into the surrounding, sensitive skin. Geralt cupped the underside of Jaskier’s chest, squeezing to push his nipple up.

He sucked, laving his tongue along the bottom of the nub. Jaskier was practically shaking beneath him, yelping as Geralt’s hips canted down so he could drag the wet head of his cock over Jaskier’s thigh. Jaskier couldn’t even beg for what he wanted; his mouth wouldn’t move when he told it to. None of his limbs would, either. He felt so helpless, like Geralt was just using him. The feeling went straight to his cock, but _fuck_ , he was just as relaxed as Geralt said he would be. It didn’t matter how good he felt, his cock was limp against his hip.

Geralt pulled away, then smeared his own saliva over Jaskier’s skin. He cupped Jaskier’s chest, both sides now, and squeezed what little give he had to offer together. Geralt kissed down the crease of his sternum, then lapped a long stripe all the way back up to his neck.

“Think of how good you’ll look when I’m done with you,” Geralt growled. “So heavy with my child you won’t be able to move—just like this. But I won’t have to do anything to you. You’ll have nice full tits for me, too.”

Jaskier shuddered. _This_ was one of those kinks Geralt had kept to himself for far too long. He’d been afraid to scare Jaskier away, but Jaskier couldn’t get enough of it. He wanted to be Geralt’s useless _anything_ —lover, broodmare, whatever he wanted. He wanted to lay here and let Geralt do anything to him, and the ways Geralt could think of to make sure he could have that. If he could get his arms around Geralt’s neck, he would, but instead he just had to lay there as Geralt sunk down his body.

“How far do you think you can stretch?” Geralt hummed, running his hands down Jaskier’s legs. “Fuck you in half.”

Jaskier keened right in his throat. He wanted to beg for it. _Yes, Geralt, yes—use me, fuck me, do whatever you want with me_. But the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t do anything, let alone _beg_ as Geralt shifted his thighs apart. He could feel oil leaking down from his hole, and even that was enough to have him shuddering. Everything was so sensitive, like this. He could only hope that Eskel was having even half as much fun with Lambert.

Geralt yanked Jaskier down, up partially into his lap until their hips were flush together and Geralt’s cock was resting between his thighs. Then, he pushed Jaskier’s knees down to his chest and held him there. Jaskier squeaked— _fuck—_ as Geralt straightened his legs out. He went wherever Geralt moved him to, and it was pure pleasure as he did. His knees were against his chest, his feet far over his head and pointing back towards the pillows. He was on perfect, wide display for his Wolf, and Geralt was near salivating.

He leaned down, hunched over like some ravenous animal, and lapped right through Jaskier’s mess, over his hole. Jaskier cried out, a low groan in his throat, because _fuck_ he needed more of that. He wanted to beg for it. Wanted to keep Geralt there for the rest of fucking winter if he could have it, but Geralt pulled away almost as quickly as he’d come. Jaskier didn’t have a moment to mourn the loss, because Geralt was shifting up, crouched almost so he could get his cock at Jaskier’s ass— _finally_.

Geralt canted his hips down, hard, and fucked right inside. The first breach of his cockhead was enough that Jaskier yelped in surprise, but the rest went smoothly. Slipping right inside Jaskier’s open, willing body. Jaskier groaned at the stretch, how Geralt just pushed into him. No resistance. He was so relaxed, so wet and open. He could get used to this, if Geralt would let him. Slip him some of that tea without him knowing until he was collapsing out in the courtyard and anyone who walked by could just pull him up by the hips and fuck into him.

The thought made him shudder. Geralt’s thrusts started immediately, wrenching Jaskier back into the present. The first punch of Geralt’s cock inside of him had Jaskier gasping for breath, and after, the pace started hard, fast. Geralt knew exactly how to work his hips, how to tilt them and angle them just right to leave Jaskier a wanton, groaning mess. He was kneeling on one knee, his hands grasped around Jaskier’s hips to keep him steady. The other leg was up, heel dug into the bed, to give him all the leverage he needed to fuck Jaskier with abandon.

“Just like you were made for it,” Geralt groaned. “Fuck, Jaskier.”

Jaskier cried out at the turn of Geralt’s hips, like he could somehow fuck into him _deeper_. Jaskier swore he could feel it in his stomach, the thickness of Geralt’s cock just pounding into him, breaching him open each time Geralt bottomed out again. It was intense. It was more intense because Jaskier couldn’t move. He was at Geralt’s mercy, held exactly where and how Geralt wanted him. His cock was still limp, too overtaken with the concoction as he was, but the feeling was still there. The pleasure.

Jaskier felt like he was losing himself, and then Geralt was _moving_. He never once let Jaskier go, even as he shifted to the edge of the bed so he could plant his feet on the ground and just plow harder, further. Geralt made sure Jaskier’s legs were up and over his shoulders, so that if he’d had any strength in his body at all he might be able to lock his ankles together. Then, in one swift movement, he pulled Jaskier right off the bed and stood up straight.

The sudden change had Jaskier impaled down the length of Geralt’s cock _again_ , and he nearly screamed. Geralt was holding him in the air, tight grip around his abdomen to keep him safe, but fuck if Jaskier didn’t feel like he was about to fall. Helpless, useless. Geralt was strong enough to keep him up. Using that strength, Geralt pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around Jaskier until he was folded right back in half. His limp cock was caught between them rubbing into Geralt’s skin each time Geralt fucked up into him.

“Fuck,” Geralt groaned. “You’re so fucking loose like this. Should do this to you more often.”

Jaskier keened right in his throat. He wanted to beg for it. He wanted Geralt to do this to him every waking minute of his life. His whole body was on fire, thrumming with pleasure even as his cock refused to harden. It was unreal, like nothing he’d ever felt before. And all at once, Geralt was dropping him back down into the bed, fucking into him with abandon. Geralt’s rhythm was faltering, stuttering as he got closer and closer to his orgasm.

“I’m going to fuck you so full of my seed you’ll have no choice,” Geralt growled, “but to get pregnant. That’s what you want, isn’t it? So eager to please you’d find a way to have my baby.”

Jaskier cried out, moaned. He wanted to nod. He wanted Geralt to come inside of him and then fuck him through the wet and sloppy mess.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep you full and happy. That’s why you’re here, Jaskier, with three Wolves. _Fuck_ ,” Geralt groaned. He wasn’t going to last. Jaskier was counting on it, and he wished he could help that last impossible mile. He wanted to clench down around Geralt, moan his name— _beg_ for his cock, his spend, his baby. Whatever Geralt wanted from him. Jaskier wanted it, too. Wanted it more. Wanted it _now_ —

Geralt came all at once, his hips fucking forward hard and staying right there, as deep inside of Jaskier as he could be. The pleasure overwhelmed Jaskier, the _feeling_. He came dry as Geralt filled him, his whole body shaking with his orgasm. He felt Geralt’s, how Geralt was shaking, his cock twitching. Geralt didn’t stop there, either. Once he’d finished, he pulled back and immediately started to thrust again. Jaskier didn’t know how he was going to take it with how his body was suddenly trembling with sensitivity, but fuck, he took it.

“Have to make sure it takes,” Geralt told him. Jaskier shivered, moaned.

Geralt fucked him straight to another crest of pleasure, another wash of orgasm he didn’t understand because his _cock_ was still limp, but Geralt took him and took him and took him until he was practically dripping in spend. Only then did Geralt finally pull back, about as exhausted as Jaskier had ever seen him. By then, Jaskier was starting to get some of his feeling back. He had enough strength to turn and watch as Geralt flopped down beside him, half bent over the bed.

“Fuck,” Jaskier groaned. “I—again? When?” Words weren’t working quite right, but Geralt understood.

“Soon, I bet,” he said. “Fuck. Have to get you and Eskel in the same room for that. Don’t know what we’d do with you.”

“Fuck us,” Jaskier suggested. “Take turns.”

“Oh, am I not enough for you?” Geralt smirked, pushing himself up so he could get a hand on the side of Jaskier’s face, caressing down the crest of his cheek.

“That’s why I have three Wolves, isn’t it?” Jaskier returned the best grin he could manage, and Geralt kissed him—hard.

Jaskier keened, arching up into him, and the rest was history. Geralt helped him wash down in the warm water by the hearth, and after, he grabbed a robe off the desk to wrap Jaskier up in. Jaskier didn’t even have to walk, Geralt carried him. He would be sleeping in Geralt’s room for the night, already decided upon. Besides, when they walked by that other closed door, they could hear inside. Lambert and Eskel weren’t quite done.

**Author's Note:**

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